


Cookie Thievery

by liionne, monkeyduels



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cookie thieves, M/M, Post-TWS, this is all just fluff really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6346462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeyduels/pseuds/monkeyduels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as "The 5 times Bucky scared an Avenger for eating a cookie and the one time he didn’t."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookie Thievery

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'D prompted and half-written by the absolutely amazing monkeyduels. Where would I be without you.
> 
> This fic is pretty light hearted, so I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I also had to upload this from mobile, as I'm currently away travelling. If there are any format problems please do let me know in the comments!

Shortly after Bucky’s return, his therapist suggested he take up an activity he found relaxing, like yoga or knitting. Bucky discovered baking. He felt most relaxed and at ease in the kitchen. Bucky was also very good in the kitchen, it turned out. For every party or get together the Avengers threw, Bucky baked his signature chocolate chip cookies. They always turned out perfectly chewy with molten chocolate. He constantly tried new recipes and put his own twist on them but no matter how good the newest cake or soufflé turned out, he always returned to his favourite cookies. He was always experimenting to improve the recipe and he loved especially to try new flavours. (Although, he will deny that he ever attempted to create a savory chocolate chip cookie, even though he had and Clint had really enjoyed them.)

All of the Avengers looked forward to Bucky’s cookies and very often lied about the number of guests to get more delicious treats. They also threw parties for no reason, making up holidays and special occasions, sometimes asking Thor to create “Asgardian” events he “celebrated”.

On one occasion, Natasha threw an impromptu unwarranted bachelorette party. Bucky soon found out she wasn’t actually getting married. Natasha defended herself by saying she was a bachelorette and therefore was allowed to celebrate being single.

Steve jokingly said Bucky was fattening him up because of all the taste tests Bucky forced on him. Anytime he did, Bucky would smirk and assure him he was absolutely fine, “Don’t ya worry, Stevie. You’re as pretty as a picture.” They would generally disappear afterwards and return a few hours later with tousled hair, a smug looking Bucky and a blushing Steve.

But, of course, like anything Bucky had, it isn't sacred when the Avengers are around. The cookies are stolen more often than not, and because Bucky doesn't really plan on guarding then twenty-four seven, there's nothing he can really do about it.

Until he and Steve are lying in post-coital bliss, that is. Steve, having just complained about the cookie theft, hums thoughtfully and says, “you should set up a camera. Catch ‘em in the act.”

So that's exactly what Bucky does.

~*~

Though Bucky had assumed that the first person to steal his cookies would be Clint, or maybe Natasha, the two sneakiest people in the building, it turns out to be the one you'd least expect: Bruce. Proof, Bucky thinks, that it's always the quiet ones that you need to watch.  
So, one afternoon when Tony has collapsed and Steve is out sparring, meaning the lab is empty, Bucky goes to pay Bruce a little visit; and by ‘little visit’, he of course means _interrogate him over the cookie fiasco_.

He goes to Bruce’s room, but he isn't there, so he goes go the a common room. There are a plate of store bought looking cookies on the table, and Bucky wrinkles his nose as he walks up behind Bruce, as silent and deadly as ever. He creeps up behind him and then, just inches from Bruce’s back, he clears his throat.

Brice’s head whips round fast enough to make Bucky wince, though his poker face remains set in place. He winces on the inside.  
“Bucky! Hey – is there something I can help you with?” Bruce asks, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Bucky pauses, and he squints. He has a feeling that they _both_  know what this is about, by regardless, he says, “The cookies. You stole them.”

Bruce’s cheeks turn a little pink- yeah. He totally knew why Bucky was here. Bucky squints threateningly st Bruce until he cracks, and he sighs: “I'm sorry. They were within reach, and I get the munchies a lot—“

And here Bucky thought Stark was joking about the “huge bag of weed” thing.

But Bucky knows what the munchies can be like (not drug induced, thank you very much), so he decides that he's going to forgive Bruce. He’ll forgive him, and he won’t punish him, but he will make sure that the law has been laid down. No one can steal Bucky’s cookies. He has a higher purpose for those cookies, and he can't afford to have then taken by the hands of a stoner mutant.  
“Alright. But don't do it again – next time I'll chop of your hands.”  
Bruce blinks, his eyes brows arching. “I don't know if the big giy’ll like that.” He warns.  
Bucky, unafraid, begins to move away. “I’m not frightened of him.” He says, truthfully. He backs off into the shadows from whence he came; he won't be as merciful the next fine around, if this ever occurs again.

~*~

Steve asks him about the cookies – more specifically, he asks why Bucky keeps making them.. Bucky shrugs, pushes then towards his better half, and then looks to the small group of friends that are in their kitchen.

A few eyes glance over to the plate of treats, which Steve is slowly but steadily munching his way through. He catches one pair of eyes in particular following almost every last crumb that finds its way into Steve's mouth, and he scowls.  
That might be checks his video again, and low and behold, he was right: Thor. Thor is also a cookie stealer.

Bucky doesn't bring it up until they're sparring the next day. The metal arm is the perfect match for Thor’s general brawn, so they end up paired against each other more often than not. It's just the two of them, quiet, peaceful, save for various grunts and the smacking of limbs off the mat.

“You've been stealing St- my cookies.” Bucky says, trying to wrestle Thor into a half-Nelson.

“Your cookies?” Thor asks, a crease appearing in his brow as he throws Bucky over his shoulder. He doesn't know how, but Thor always manages to be loud, his voice booming even when he's using his Inside Voice. “I'm sorry, Sergeant Barnes. I had no idea that they were your property.”

Well, fuck. Bucky just wanted to warn him off, he didn't know thor would be so nice about it.

“They aren't.” Bucky grunts, kicking Thor’s beefy leg out from under him, only for Thor to drag him down with him as he falls.

“Then why are you worried about them?” Thor asks, in the way that Thor tends to, innocent like a child, and yet still probing.

And actually, there is an answer to that, but Bucky doesn't want to give it.

“Just am.” Bucky responds. “Just—you can eat ‘em. I don't mind. Just make sure you ask nicely next time, alright?”

Thor gives him that golden retriever smile, and nods. “Aye.” He agrees. “Now—“ he's had Bucky pinned to the mat for a good ten, fifteen seconds now. “Do you concede?”

~*~

There is a brief lull in cookie stealing, but only because the Avengers have a mission to go on. Bucky is not invited, out of personal preference. He isn't a superhero. Not even an antihero. He's dealing with his own shit right now, he can't be expected to be dealing with the rest of the world’s shit too.

He continues to make cookies. He throws the first batch in the garbage, because they go stale with no one to eat them, but after a while he starts to throw them out for the birds. He continues to make them, day in and day out, until the Avengers, and Steve, return.  
Steve has one foot in the doorway of their little apartment when Bucky thrusts the plate into his chest.

“Eat these.” He instructs. “I'll get you undressed.”

And Steve, too tired to resist, allows it.

~*~

But of course, a return of Steve and the Avengers means that the cookies begin to go missing again. This time, Bucky doesn't wait; he stays up to watch. But, his only reason for doing so is the fact that the cookie thief can't be seen on camera. Too sneaky. Too clever.  
He knows exactly who it is.  
He lies in wait; he hears the tell-take creak of a door opening, but then nothing. Footsteps too light or too stealthy to be heard.  
He waits, and he waits, and just as a single pale hand is reaching out for a cookie, he darts out to smack it away.

“Ow!” Natasha hisses. “Yasha!”

Bucky scowls. “Hands off the cookies.”

“They're not your property.” She argues.

“They are.” He argues right back. “I made them.”

“And left them out on the counter.” She hisses.

“Not for you.” Bucky says, and skilfully moves the plate of cookies out of her way.

She arches an eyebrow at him, but it's not clear to see in the dark of the kitchen. “How did you know it was me?”

“You didn't show up on the camera.” Bucky says, his voice a whisper. Steve is asleep in the next room over, and Bucky doesn't want to wake him. “Too sneaky, too clever. That’s the definition of you.”

She folds her arms across her chest, and gives a gentle sigh. She has to admit, he's right about that. She's sneaky as hell when she wants to be – sometimes even when she doesn't mean to be. She looks him dead in the eyes, and says, “so you want me to stop?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Yes, actually, I do. Very much so. Like I said - they're not for you.”

She hums, and she takes one cookie from the plate, her hand just a fraction of a second faster than his as it attempts to smack hers away. She grins at him, take a bite, and turns to walk away. “Last one, promise.” She calls.

“I'll be watching!” He yell-whispers after her, frowning at the plate in front of him.

~*~

A little while goes past. Steve eats the rest of the cookies that Natasha had left, and so Bucky bakes some more. He bakes them at 3am after a particularly bad nightmare, and Steve doesn't question him about it. Of course, Bucky knows they Steve wishes he would share these nightmares with him. Get some help. But the fact of the matter is that Bucky isn't there yet. He isn't ready, and he doesn't know when he will be – if he'll _ever_ be.

So he makes cookies to cope. It's better than… Other things he could be doing.

But he quickly starts to notice that they go missing again, and so he takes to his camera to find out who the cookie stealer is _this_  time.

It's really starting to get kind of old.

He sighs, and with the perpetrator discovered, he goes to confront them.

But of course, this time, he needs to send a message to _everyone_.

So, he creeps through the air vents, and then he lies in wait. He waits, and he waits, and then the moment he sees Clint fucking Barton raise that cookie that Bucky so lovingly made to his lips, he shoots it out of his hand with his pistol.

Clint shits his pants, of course, and Bucky can't help but smirk as he drops down from the rafters.

“No cookies for you.” He says.

Clint shakes his hand, acting as if he's been hit. Bucky rolls his eyes, and slips the pistol back into its holster, looking at the smouldering cookie crumbs that now litter the archery room floor.

“That was mean.” Clint accuses. “You could have took my hand off!”

Bucky arches an eyebrow – whether he learnt it from Natasha, or Natasha learned it from him, they may never know – and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Okay, fair point.” Clint shrugs. As if Bucky would ever miss; he was aiming for the cookie and they both know it. He never would have hit Clint. “Why can't I have cookies?”

“Because they aren't for you. If you want cookies, buy some. Or better yet, bake them yourself.” Bucky says, his smile cynical.

“Stark doesn't let me cook.” Clint said, sounding almost…. sheepish. “Not after last time.”

Bucky doesn't know what that's in reference to; he’ll ask Steve later on.

“Then buy some.” Bucky says, heading for the door. “But they _aren't_ for you.” He wags a finger at Clint, halfway out the door now. “And if I catch you trying to steal more cookies, I'll make sure I get your hand next time!”

Clint laughs as the door swings shut, but he doesn't underestimate Bucky for a second; he knows fine well that one more cookie stolen would end up in him losing a few fingers.

~*~

He catches one last person stealing cookies, and honestly, he can't really believe it. When he watches the tape, his jaw falls open. He knows he has to be a bit more… Diplomatic about this one. No shooting, no threatening.

So he makes an official appointment, and stands outside of Pepper Pott’s office at the assigned time.

“Yknow, you didn't have to make an appointment to talk to me.” She smiles as she enters her office with him in tow, offering him the seat on the other side of the desk. “I'm in the Penthouse a lot. What does Tony call it? The Avengers Clubhouse.” She says, and she smirks a little.

Bucky drums his fingers on his knees, and hen he sighs. He looks up at Pepper - she's the only one he isn't particularly close with. Doesn't know her well enough to be able to drop in on her from the ceiling, or sneak up on her in her room. It would be weird. It would be creepy, and Bucky doesn't want to be creepy.

“I had an… Issue I wanted to address.” He said, his voice low, words slow and calculated.

Her eyebrows raise. “Oh?”

“Mm.” He hums. He pauses, and taking her silence as a cue to continue, he says, “you took one of the cookies.”

She pauses, and then she frowns.

“The cookies.” Bucky nods. “On Steve's—on our counter.”

She purses her lips gently, and gives a slight nod, looking st Bucky. “Yes. I did. Is that an issue?”

“Yes.” Bucky says, blurting out the wood far too fast. His eyes widen, and Pepper seems hell-bent in givin him a reassuring smile. “They aren't yours…” He murmurs, and she seems to give a soft sigh.

“Oh.” She murmurs. She nods, and places her hands flat on the desk. “I see. I won't take one again.”

“You can, just—“ Bucky runs a hand through his too-long hair, and bites his bottom lip. “Ask first?”

“Of course.” She nods. She smiles, and Bucky does actually feel a little bit better. “Anything else, Mr. Barnes?”

“No ma’am.” He smiles, and stands. She stands with him, offering her hand, and after a pause that feels like an eternity, he takes it, giving it s gentle shake. “Thank you.”

“There's nothing to thank me for.” She smiles softly, going to open the door for him. “You're well within your right to ask for things like that.”

He nods, edging out of the room. Despite what she had said, he murmurs another thank you, his head down and cheeks a little pink as he leaves.

~*~

He lies in bed with Steve a week or so later, his head pillowed on Steve's chest, his arm slung over the other’s hips.

“So,” Steve says, the way he always does when he's about to ask Bucky an indirect question. “A little birdy told me you've been fighting off cookie thieves.”

Bucky gives a gentle smile at the way he worded it, and he smiles. “What little birdy?”

“No little birdy in particular.” Steve grins gentle, Bucky can hear it in his voice. He begins playing with Bucky's hair, and Bucky's hums, almost a purr. “Can I ask why?”

Bucky doesn't know whether he should tell him or not. The answer is kind of fucked up, in his opinion. He spent a lot of time debating on that, too, so to have come to that conclusion must mean that he's right.

“I…” He begins, and then he stops. He sighs gently. “You were always so thin.” He murmurs, looking up at Steve. “And now you can eat and eat and eat and—and I just like it. That's all. You're healthy.”

Steve looks down at him with those too-blue eyes, and Bucky is absolutely sure he's going to drown. Steve's smile is gentle as it looks at him, but it soon disappears from view as their lips meet.

“Bucky,” Steve smiles, pulling back only so far as to be able to see each other. “That's really sweet.”

Bucky's nose wrinkles. “It's weird.”

“It isn't. It isn't weird.” Steve says, shaking his head. “It's wonderful. You're an amazing friend. And an even better boyfriend.”

Bucky blushes softly at the word, his head ducked, settling on Steve's chest again.

“The cookies are really that good?” He teases.

Steve grins again, and nods, kissing the top of Bucky's head.

“They're delicious.” He assures him, and Bucky cannot help but smile.


End file.
